Set Ablaze
by greetingsfrommaars
Summary: A series of short scenes written for characters' birthdays. Most recently on "Set Ablaze": The greatest showdown of two dauntless spirits has come! Tooyama Kintarou and his Oshitari-senpai will face each other in an eating race for the ages... but can they handle the heat?
1. January 2 - Dan Taiichi

_This is the first in a series of random little scenes written for various characters' birthdays. It'll run alongside some others I've started for _Naruto _and _Bleach_... not sure what else I want to try yet. We'll see._

* * *

**January 2 - Dan Taiichi**

The tennis team of Yamabuki Middle School had prepared the very best New Year's party. Indeed, how could they not, with the most attentive data manager directing them?

In the minutes before the moment of truth, we find . . . a scene of frantic scrambling.

"No! No, not there! Buchou!"

"Sorry, sorry…"

"Muromachi-senpai! What are you _doing_?!"

"…Putting the food on the table?"

"No, not yet! Wait until—"

The team watched in silent awe as Dan reached levels of nitpickiness they had never seen before. They had thought that a simple celebration would be enough. Ha! The attention to detail of a first-year data player knew no bounds.

The table decorations were crooked. One of the chairs had a minute scratch at the very bottom. The walls were too bland and needed more color—but _no, senpai, don't waste the streamers!_ What if there wasn't enough food? What would they do if they had too much food? What if the guests hated the party?!

Something smacked the side of Dan's head and bounced on the table. He flinched, eyeing the tennis ball that now rolled innocently across the floor.

"Slow down, runt. You're giving everyone whiplash." Akutsu spoke without sparing Dan a glance, tossing another ball with one hand as he slouched in an armchair in the corner.

"Akutsu-senpai—"

"No one's going to die if the party's bad, idiot. There's nothing you can do at this point."

"But what if they don't like the food?"

"Shut up or I'm serving this ball into the—"

"Akutsu-senpai! Don't you dare!"

-mm-

_Notes: For some reason, I always forget whether Dan is his given name or his family name. I think it's his family name..._

_In my mind, Dan's personality as a data player means that he's the type of person who feels the need to check every tiny detail before going out and doing something. In canon, this came up with him researching other players meticulously, but I figured that this personality trait could apply to a New Year's celebration too. Once I had that idea, I figured that Akutsu would be the obvious one to make Dan slow down and stop freaking out, in the most forceful way possible, of course._

_Thank you for reading! If anyone has any alternate title suggestions, I would truly appreciate it. I've been undeniably lazy with all my birthday series names..._

_Next up is Kabaji Munehiro._


	2. January 3 - Kabaji Munehiro

**January 3 - Kabaji Munehiro**

Rolls of grip tape, pliable to the touch.

A row of pristine new rackets.

Baskets of tennis balls in their untouched, pure fuzz.

In short, he had found an oasis within the city chaos.

Kabaji Munehiro stood in the middle of the tennis section of his favorite sports store.

Now that he was here, the most important part of his journey into inner Tokyo could begin. It was time to decide what to buy . . . Since it was Munehiro's birthday, it would be alright to spend a bit on some supplies. He examined a rack of tennis shoes thoughtfully, before returning to the shelf with tennis rackets. Perhaps he could find a new racket to withstand some of his more powerful shots . . . He paused.

An insistent voice with a certain commanding tone reached his ears from elsewhere in the store.

"Be quiet, Gakuto. He certainly does not want a five-tier cake with sparklers on it for his birthday. No, you fool, _you're_ the one who wants a cake! Munehiro-kun never eats sweets. How is that any way to speak to your superior? _You're_ selfish and stingy! Give the phone back to Yuushi, you peon! Listening to your prattle is beneath me!"

A familiar head of silky gray hair made its way through the aisles. Kabaji could practically see the supercilious sneer on his former captain's face as Atobe scolded Mukahi for stealing Oshitari's phone.

_Here comes the King_. Somehow, a small sports store in the city was not among the places Munehiro expected to find Atobe on a weekend.

"Yuushi, I told you, Gakuto must not be allowed to pollute my hearing with such idiotic chatter. Does he ever shut up? Give the man a sedative. Yes, I am aware that you are not a licensed medical professional, but I had such faith in your resourcefulness. This is beside the point. You're supposed to be clever; you tell me—what would make a good birthday present? I know it's Munehiro's birthday today—"

Atobe turned into the tennis section of the humble sports equipment store and found Munehiro.

"… A moment, Yuushi." Atobe put the phone down and stared at Munehiro.

Munehiro stared back.

"Hello, Kabaji-kun. For your information, you obviously have not seen me here, and of course I am not desperately finding you a birthday present at the last minute."

"…"

"Since this is a golden opportunity, what do you think Kabaji-kun would like for his birthday?"

"…"

"If you'll leave my magnificent self to scramble for a gift alone, so be it." Atobe pointed to the area of the store he had come from. "Go find your inner love of baseball or something equally mundane. I have a present to find."

Munehiro ambled away, sighing. _He hasn't changed one whit._

-mm-

_Notes: Honestly, I don't have much of an idea about Kabaji's personality, so I feel like Atobe ended up taking over this scene. Oops._

_I imagine this story taking place after the canon third years have graduated and gone on to high school, which is why Atobe is Kabaji's "former captain" at the moment. That situation will change, methinks, after Kabaji graduates too._

_I think Atobe's part of this_—_searching for the perfect gift_—_was probably inspired by the _Phineas and Ferb _Christmas special I watched recently, though Atobe certainly handles pressure better than Candace (from that show) does._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Sakuno._


	3. January 14 - Ryuuzaki Sakuno

**January 14 - Ryuuzaki Sakuno**

_Knees bent. Arm swinging back, just so…_

Ryuuzaki Sakuno furrowed her brow in concentration, mentally preparing herself. With a quick exhale, she tossed the ball up into the air and raised her racket to meet it in a graceful arc overhead. She watched her serve soar over the net, across the other side of the court … and into the bushes outside the fence. Her face fell—_missed again_, she thought to herself.

"_Ow!_ What the heck?!" A protesting voice rose from the bushes. As Sakuno watched, the branches and leaves shook before parting to reveal a boy in a plainly colored jacket. A red mark the size of a tennis ball shined from his forehead. He stalked through the entrance to the courts, scowling at the girl who had injured him.

"Intruder!" called Tomoka from the other side of the court. "Who are you, and why is your jacket so horribly unfashionable?"

"I think he's a spy from another school, Tomoka-chan," suggested Sakuno. The boy flinched.

"Shut up! Don't dismiss me so easily, little _girl_—and our team jacket is not unfashionable! The white and blue symbolize our indomitable pride as the regulars of Ginka Junior High tennis!"

"I think you're just copying our school's color scheme, lamebrain spy," mocked Tomoka.

"_Why you—! _You dare insult the colors of the glorious Ginka team!" he snarled back, striding angrily towards the outspoken first year.

Tomoka stood her ground, glaring at him indignantly. "So you're here to spy on our Nationals-ranked team? You don't have half the talent of Ryoma-sama or Tezuka-senpai. Do you think spying will help you any?"

"_Shut up!_" The boy advanced towards her, lifting a hand to grab her arm.

Another tennis ball slammed into his shoulder. He dropped his arm with a yelp.

Coming to stand at the net, Sakuno stared at the intruder steadily, kneading her racket between her hands. She glanced at his shoulder; it had a small bruise, less visible than the one on his head.

_Darn. That shot was weaker than I wanted._

"You should leave now," she told him, ignoring his answering scowl. "I have plenty more balls ready, and if you don't want to get caught in our _game_, I suggest you go away." She indicated the exit plainly, waiting for him to concede.

He threw her a dark look and loped away, muttering to himself.

Sakuno smiled. _One Ginka spy, kicked off the girls' courts, courtesy of Ryuuzaki Sakuno_.

"Uh, Sakuno?" Tomoka called to her friend.

"Yeah?"

"You just pointed him in the direction of the boys' courts… The school's main gate is _that_ way."

_Oops_.

**-mm-**

_Notes: As a disclaimer, my brainpower level is nearly nonexistent at the moment. Blame it on the terrible duo of an English essay and my procrastination skills..._

_For this one, I wanted to write a scene with a strong Sakuno—no pining after Ryoma, or just standing at the sidelines while the boys battle it out on the court. I wanted to give Sakuno a "hero" moment like all those times Ryoma comes to the rescue for random victims of bullying... apparently this eventually translated to violence through the instruments of tennis. Oh dear. Also, apparently I really like using tennis balls to abuse my characters. First Dan, now this Ginka kid…_

_In addition, I have realized that I have difficulties writing angry "bad guys" without including swearing XD My instincts told me to have my Ginka kid swear when he got angry, but my common sense told me to stick to this series's "K" rating._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Ishida Gin._


	4. January 25 - Ishida Gin

**January 25 - Ishida Gin**

Ishida Gin knelt on the tennis clubroom floor and searched for inner peace.

_Empty your mind. Let all your thoughts fall away, and silence the insistent voices within your head._ _Cease all movement but the constant pulse within your veins._ He folded his hands in front of his lap and prepared to begin a breathing exercise.

_Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four._

_ Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five…_

"Hey, Ishida-senpai!" A small weight crashed into the meditating teenager and bounced off of his solid frame. Recovering rapidly, the freshman hopped to his feet and waved his hands excitedly.

"Ishida-senpai, today's not a day to sit around and do nothing!" Kintarou-kun skipped in circles around his senpai with an eager grin. "We should go somewhere and have fun!"

_Persevering through all interruptions is also a form of demonstrating inner peace. Calm your mind. Weather all storms._

"Senpai, you have a younger brother who plays tennis, right? We should go to your house and find him! Is he big and strong like you? Can he do the Hadokyuu? Is his head as shiny as yours? Do you have any other siblings? You have a little sister, right? Does she like tennis? Has she ever come to see us play? Would she like to join? I'd like to play!" Kintarou-kun prattled on. The breakneck pace of his circling around Ishida matched the speed of his speech.

_Be as an immovable mountain. Rigid, consistent, unwavering…_

"Hey, can we go see Koshimae? I wanna challenge him! His plays are wild! I don't remember where he lives, though. Somewhere with lots of skinny trees and hard courts, right? Koshimae never gets angry even though his senpai always tease him. He's kind of like you! Whoever laughs first wins, right? But Ishida-senpai lets everyone else laugh and just follows along silently! You don't even yell when Konjiki-senpai and Hitouji-senpai put centipedes in your food!" Kintarou-kun's mouth never stopped moving.

_Kintarou-kun will run out of steam eventually. Just bide your time…_

A small hand prodded at his forehead.

"Hey, Ishida-senpai, you in there? You aren't even moving. Are you okay? Should I go get our captain and ask him to save you? I think he's taking a test right now, though! Should I go and ask the other senpai to wake you up instead? Hey, senpai!"

Silently, Ishida Gin stood up from the tennis clubroom floor and resigned himself to another afternoon of babysitting his team's hyperactive secret weapon.

**-mm-**

_Notes: Ishida Gin really does seem like an immovable mountain to me-at least while he appears in the first PoT manga. Of course, once the Goliath-like high-school students come into play in New Prince of Tennis, everyone reaches a new level of implausibility._

_The "breathing exercise" for meditation that I wrote is actually a breathing exercise that I did for flute-playing before... I just figured that it seemed applicable to mediation too. I've never actually meditated myself besides falling half-asleep in PE yoga class, so I'm certainly not knowledgeable in any way concerning meditation._

_Kintarou feels like an all-exclamation-marks kind of guy. Thus, half of his lines end in exclamation points, and the other half in question marks. He's an energetic little bugger._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Krauser Liliadent (who has such a ridiculous name)._


	5. February 7 - Liliadent Krauser

**February 7 - Liliadent Krauser**

"_My name is Ririadento Kurauza_._ I am a boy._"

He frowned, kneading the pencil between his fingers. What else could he say?

"_I have thirteen years. I do tennis._"

Letting out a frustrated groan, he let the pencil drop to his desk. This exercise was stupid. He already knew who he was, and his teacher already knew that his life involved little outside of tennis. What could either of them gain from his "personal essay"? All he had achieved was to solidify his belief that he had barely any grasp on the Japanese language at all.

Even so, he had to fill this page somehow. What else did he know how to say?

"_I am of Europe. It is cold. I do not like it._"

Even when he arrived in Japan, he still couldn't escape the darned snow, building up everywhere and smothering all the outdoor tennis courts. Remembering it made him grimace and glance out the window with a sour look. His teachers at home had told him to simply go out for a walk and find a community tennis court if he ever felt bored while in Japan, but obviously the winter existed merely to sabotage all his efforts. The snow closed down the outdoor courts, the cold air forced him to stay inside with nothing to do but write stupid essays, and the ice was a menace unlike any other. Just the day before, he had taken a wrong step and landed on his behind, and then the rest of the tennis team had laughed at him.

"_Winter is stupid. Essay is stupid. I don't want to write._"

He stabbed the pencil down upon finishing that line, leaving an angry hole instead of a period to end the sentence. His pencil tip broke, and he scowled at it. Why did the essay have to be so annoying? Why did it have to drag on and on, instead of going by quickly like one of his matches? Tennis always came to an end too fast for him, especially once he brought out his crucifixion style. He huffed impatiently and sharpened his pencil to a wicked point again.

"_Winter is no fun. Essay is no fun. Tennis is. Other persons fall. Not me._"

Ever since he came to Japan, in fact, he had not found a single decent player to challenge him. The experience was supposed to broaden his horizons and introduce him to new styles of tennis, but so far, he had only found amateurs and copycats. He had beaten each opponent soundly, and he would surely do so again each time he attended another tournament with Nagoya.

"_I won. I win. I will win._"

He smirked to himself—his Japanese writing teacher would appreciate the demonstration of his mastery over Japanese verb tenses, at least. Skimming over the scrawled words on his notebook page, he nodded in satisfaction.

"_I finish_. _End_."

**-mm-**

_Notes: I've noticed that the wintry scene that surrounds me has started claiming every one of my recent scenes, too. Ah, winter... it has claimed my soul, and all my writing muses, I guess._

_Inspiration for this scene comes from my own experiences with Spanish homework, when I run out of inane things to say about myself. I tried to mimic the stilted writing of a foreigner in the lines for Liliadent's "essay". All the sentences are also remarkably short and unsophisticated. XD_

_On another note, I also realized just now that Liliadent is the age of a seventh grader according to my local school system. And, darn, I've never met a thirteen-year-old who crucified his opponents for the sake of a game the way Liliadent does... but then, I've never seen a ninth grader who could paralyze people by hitting balls at them, or a high school kid who could shatter a freaking concrete wall with a racket and a ball and one heck of a shot._

_Or maybe my school's tennis team is secretly more terrifying than I thought._

_Thank you for reading, anyway! Next up is Ootori Choutarou._


	6. February 14 - Ootori Choutarou

**February 14 - Ootori Choutarou**

"Oh, yeah, we have someone on our team who's always sent to deal with the girls on Valentine's Day," Oshitari Yuushi explained to his cousin. He transferred the phone to his other ear. "What? No, it's not Kabaji-kun. I know that Kabaji looks like he does all the grunt work for the team, but actually, it's Ootori Choutarou…"

* * *

"_Kyaaaaaa_! It's perfect!"

"Shh! Calm down. They might hear you!"

"Ah, I can't wait! When are they coming out?"

A murmur of excited whispers and stifled giggles came from outside the tennis club room. From within, the members of the team stood around nervously, unwilling to brave the wild crowd of female classmates beyond the clubroom door. With just one step, they would knew they would find themselves lost in a storm of pink hearts and frantic confessions, bewildered in a world of one-sided romance and obsessive love. What could they do? They were tennis players, not Casanovas. There was nothing they could do.

Finally, Atobe sighed and gave a rapid snap with his fingers. "Ootori!"

The second year stood at attention. "Yes, captain!"

Atobe waved at the door with a dismissive look. "You know what to do. Make it quick."

"Will do, captain." Choutarou strode to the door calmly, as his senpai looked on in awe and Kabaji watched with a blank expression.

A series of high-pitched squeals greeted him when he exited the clubroom. Though he didn't have nearly as many rabid fans as his captain (who attracted loving "subjects" by the dozens with his kingly attitude), Choutarou had a handful of secret admirers of his own because of his caring, respectful demeanor.

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, the girls directly in front of him began to swoon exaggeratedly, giving in to their fantasies of being caught by Ootori Choutarou, the knight in shining armor, when they fell. The girls behind the front row simply appreciated the better view of him, now that those girls in the way were down.

Choutarou cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming to give us your Valentine's Day chocolates. I'm sure you all chose amazingly delicious sweets for us, even if we don't deserve them."

The crowd of girls cooed dotingly as one. Ootori-kun was so _cute_!

"However, I regretfully inform you that, as a part of our preparations for the upcoming tournament, we will not be eating any sweets and will instead be eating as healthily as possible. Yes, even Mukahi-senpai."

A muted wail came from within the tennis clubroom.

"Because of this, I'm afraid we can't accept your generous gifts. Thank you for your time. Please leave the tennis courts now, because we need to practice."

* * *

"… Yeah, Ootori-kun, because he looks gentle and kind, but shoots straight and fast."

**-mm-**

_Notes: A happy belated Valentine's Day to everyone! Sorry this is a day late._

_This is pretty much what came to my mind immediately when I saw that Choutarou's birthday was Valentine's Day. So, of course, I had fun writing the cliché anime fangirls with no sense of reason or personal privacy. Haha._

_The idea of a fantasy about fainting and being caught by your crush comes from the music video for "I'm Different" by Hi Suhyun (Lee Hi and Suhyun)._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Fuji Yuuta._


	7. February 18 - Fuji Yuuta

**February 18 - Fuji Yuuta**

"Argh, where is it?" Yuuta dashed around his room frantically, rummaging through his closet and the chaotic layer of clothing on his floor. "I could've sworn that I had it with me yesterday…"

Bunching up each section of clothes in his arms, he dumped the armfuls of clothing on his bed one by one. He found wrinkled pants, rumpled shirts, individual socks missing their partners…

His St. Rudolph Academy uniform jacket was nowhere to be seen.

He could remember wearing it throughout the day before during his classes. After the school day and tennis practice had ended, he had left the dorm to spend the weekend at home. As soon as he stepped through the door, a dizzying storm of familial affection from his mother and sister stopped him in his tracks. Syuusuke had just stood behind them, an enigmatic smile on his face. Yuuta had still had his jacket up till then…

_Syuusuke._

Yuuta whirled around and stormed out of his room. Hearing his angry footfalls descending the stairs, his two older siblings turned away from their idle conversation in the kitchen.

"_Nii-san!_ What have you done with my uniform jacket?" Yuuta accused.

"What are you talking about, Yuuta? I haven't seen it," responded Syuusuke, smiling easily.

"I know you've done something with it. You don't need to mess with me, okay? Where is it?"

"I really haven't seen it, my dear younger brother."

"It seems to me that he really means it, Yuuta. Have you checked the laundry? Perhaps Mother put it there," offered Yumiko from her position by the stove.

"No, she doesn't collect laundry from my room. She said that she didn't want to wade through the ocean of chaos… Nii-san must have done something to it! You're always trying to _toy_ with me somehow! So where is it? Did you draw something stupid on it? Did you mutilate my uniform?!"

Yuuta's phone vibrating in his pocket broke him from his accusations. Muttering angrily, he glanced at the caller ID—"Vice-Captain"—and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Yuuta," drawled a bored voice.

"Has Mizuki done something stupid again?" Yuuta glared at his brother as he spoke. _Don't think you're off the hook just because I'm on the phone_.

"No, it's your uniform jacket, you dolt. You left it in the club room, so we grabbed it for you. It's here at the dorm."

"…Oh." Yuuta glanced at his apparently innocent older brother.

Syuusuke smiled.

**-mm-**

_Notes: Yeah, this is pretty much all I came up with for Yuuta XD Sorry for distressing you, Yuuta-kun._

_On a side note, I learned from the Tenipuri wiki that once, Syuusuke and Yuuta got lost in a department store when they were younger because Syuusuke kept forcing Yuuta to try on the clothes. Maybe I should use that for Syuusuke's scene... ha._

_Thank you for reading! Especially, thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited: the freelance dreamer, XxBloodandButterfliesxX, NaoQuitcher, MissE3, and Suzume Suzuki._

_Next up is Fuji Syuusuke (he's a Leap Day baby)._


	8. February 29 - Fuji Syuusuke

**February 29 - Fuji Syuusuke**

"Happy birthday, Yuuta!" cheered the Fuji family, surrounding the birthday boy with warm smiles.

"Thank you very much," he replied, grinning widely.

The remains of a splendid feast lay across the table between them. Tantalizing aromas filled the air from the frenzy of cooking that had taken place earlier in the day. Yuuta would have been tempted to stuff even more food into his mouth if his gut weren't already full to bursting with his favorite foods. As it was, all he needed to do was lean back in his chair and let out a sigh in a single gust of pure satisfaction.

With this birthday, he could now say that he was thirteen years old, satisfied with this school year thus far, and that much closer to becoming a fully mature tennis player. His parents approved of his grades from the most recent term (except for literature, of course, but no one really wanted to confront the abyss of vague metaphors and didactic morals that was literature class). Mizuki-san had introduced an incredible new shot to him—the posture was kind of weird, but the violent spin he could put on the ball was worth it. This evening was just the culmination of a growing trend of happy happenings in his life.

Syuusuke hadn't even tried anything sneaky. Nii-san was just sitting quietly by Yumiko, chatting lightly about something a wonder freshman on his team had been up to recently.

Then, both Yuuta's siblings turned to him, smiling subtly in unison.

"We left your presents on your bed, Yuuta-kun. Go and see!" Yumiko told him, while Syuusuke gestured towards the stairs leading to his room.

"Okay!" Humming lightly to himself, Yuuta left the dining room and disappeared up the stairs.

"He's so cheerful now—I guess the new school is doing him some good," commented Yumiko. "Especially that manager who keeps helping him with his tennis. I know you wanted Yuuta to be at Seigaku with you, but I think it's nice that he's making connections with other people and reaching out for himself."

"Ah, the little chickie is leaving the nest," Syuusuke replied. "He used to be so cute when I could just put him in a set of giraffe pajamas and coo at him. Where has that adorable little tyke gone?"

"He always used to make the oddest faces when you did that, even though he never really refused the pajamas. I remember he used to scrunch up his nose and arch his eyebrows in a completely vexed facial expression when we both cooed at him."

"_Nii-san!_" An indignant cry came from the second upstairs bedroom.

"I imagine that he's making that lovely facial expression right now," suggested Syuusuke. "I do hope we get to see it."

"I'm sure we will," answered Yumiko, when they both heard a hurried set of footsteps descending the stairs.

"Nii-san, I told you I wouldn't wear the monkey-themed ones anymore! I'm not going to look like a preschooler because of you! _Take the gift back!_" Yuuta thrust the offending pair of pajamas in his brother's face, glaring at him vehemently.

"See? Here comes the exasperated facial expression," pointed out Yumiko.

"I chose the gift with the utmost of care, Yuuta-kun. I do hope you enjoyed the message I wrote on the tag for them." Syuusuke ignored the brightly colored bundle of cloth invading his personal space.

"The tag?" Yuuta glanced down at the clothes in his hands.

_I thought this set of pajamas looked perfect for you. These look really comfy. Please wear them around the house when you want to relax, Yumiko-onee-san. Even though it's Yuuta's birthday, you deserve a nice present too. _ _From your brother Syuusuke_

"This… what…" Yuuta balked at the present in his hands, before a deft hand snatched it and whisked it out of his grasp.

"I really appreciate the gift, Syuusuke," said Yumiko, feeling the soft fabric in her hands. "I'm sorry I _misplaced _it among the presents for Yuuta's birthday, but I'm glad we both got to see Yuuta's best affronted facial expression again, aren't you?"

"Of course, nee-san," replied Syuusuke. He smiled at Yuuta. "You'll find _your_ present on your bed, still, Yuuta. Please enjoy it."

"… Right…"'

Yuuta turned on his heel and ran up the stairs, determined to escape the atmosphere of madness that surrounded his older siblings when he could.

**-mm-**

_Notes: Hey, it looks like my scenes are getting longer! This is exciting!_

_Syuusuke and Yumiko just really needed most of another page to mess with Yuuta properly, I'd say. XD For some reason, all the scenes that come to my mind for Syuusuke involve him messing with someone else. For some reason._

_Originally, I was thinking of making the "present" a dress, but then I changed it to kiddie pajamas._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Kachirou Katou._


	9. March 2 - Kachirou Katou

**March 2 - Kachirou Katou**

"Okay, Team Horio, calling a short meeting before tennis practice starts!" Horio announced.

"Why are we Team Horio? Can't we be Team Seigaku B or something?" questioned Mizuno immediately. "This is for Seigaku, after all…"

"It doesn't matter what we call ourselves. We're supposed to be secretly gathering data for the team, right?" Kachirou spoke up. "Spies don't have team names."

"Shh! Don't shout it out for everyone else to hear!" hissed Mizuno. "We're spying in _secret_!"

All three first-years scanned the surrounding area carefully for potential eavesdroppers. With a top-secret mission such as this, for the sake of Seigaku's boys' tennis team, they could not be negligent. Within a radius of ten meters, they found some members of another club en route to a classroom… an older girl walking by with her eyes fixated on her phone… no one within hearing distance of their meeting place between the azalea bushes.

They let out a sigh of relief in unison.

Kachirou turned to his comrades with a troubled expression. "Guys, are we sure this is a good idea? I don't know if the regulars will really approve of something sneaky like this…"

"If the other schools are doing it too, I say we have the right to see what our regulars are up against," argued Mizuno. "Besides, if we give Inui-senpai good data, maybe he won't try to test out new energy drink formulas on us."

At the thought of even _more_ luridly bright and bubbly concoctions coming from the diabolical hands of Inui-senpai, all three shuddered.

"Let's do it. Even I, with my considerable experience, don't have the guts to deal with Inui-senpai's evilness," insisted Horio. "But Team Horio needs a plan."

Mizuno suddenly sat up with an excited expression. "If we're going to spy for the team… we need spy stuff! You know, watches with laser beams, pens with hidden blades… no, tennis balls secretly packed with explosives!"

"Why would we need those?" Kachirou gave his comrade a questioning look. "And why would we mutilate perfectly good tennis balls like that? And where would we even get them from?"

"We don't need spy gadgets. My expertise will make up for them!" declared Horio, gesturing grandly.

"You have experience spying on people?" Kachirou inquired, looking skeptical.

"Horio-kun, have you been living a secret life in the shadows without telling us?" gasped Mizuno.

"Nah, he's probably just stalking that pretty senpai that he likes," replied Kachirou, waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh, that makes more sense," Mizuno agreed. "Horio-kun, you didn't tell us you were a creeper!"

"_Hey!_ I am not a creeper! I am a veteran tennis player!" spluttered Horio. "Stop _laughing_!"

"Anyway, moving on from Horio's private stalking tendencies—denying it so much makes it look worse, Horio-kun—we should decide where to go. Tennis practice is going to start soon. Which school should we spy on?" Kachirou looked at his comrades expectantly.

"I think we should go check on Ginka," muttered Mizuno. "They forfeited as soon as our match with them started, for no reason. They definitely have something to hide."

"I agree. No honest, respectable tennis player would back out of a match like that," Kachirou responded.

"Alright, so we've decided which school to scout out…" Horio put a hand on his chin in thought. Then an ominous dark shape caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

A dark-haired head, sporting glasses, a tidy Seigaku regular's jacket, and a spectacular glare.

"TEAM HORIO MEETING ABORT! ABORT! HOSTILE TEAM CAPTAIN APPROACHING!" Horio scrambled to his feet, ending up with several leaves in his hair.

"H-hi, Captain Tezuka…" Mizuno tried not to cower behind his teammates when he met his captain's stony glare.

Once the terrifying gaze shifted to Kachirou, he bowed his head in penitence. "We're sorry, Captain…" _Please tell me you didn't hear what we were talking about. It was supposed to be a surprise._

The three first-years stood together in silence, awaiting their punishment.

"Ten laps," stated the Captain.

Horio sighed loudly in relief.

"From here to Fudomine and back," finished the Captain.

They remained motionless, faces blank with shock.

_We're done for._

**-mm-**

_Notes: Yes, this is a day late, along with the previous one. I spent pretty much all of Sunday reading _World Trigger _to celebrate my birthday... Sorry, not sorry._

_I have no idea how far it actually is between Seigaku and Fudomine, but I thought it sounded like a suitable punishment. Also, I have a really bad sense of distance, so I'm not completely sure how much ten meters is XD_

_This series is fun! Probably because I don't include dark, angsty scenes, the way I do for the other ones._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Hirakoba Rin (who is also going to be a day late)._


	10. March 3 - Hirakoba Rin

**March 3 - Hirakoba Rin**

Hirakoba Rin's mother loved him very much.

She didn't know how he could ever doubt that. She loved his tenacious personality, his unyielding devotion to his sport. She loved how he threw his passion and focus into perfecting his craft, even if it meant that he often came home after the sun was gone and his dinner was cold. He was a determined, hardworking person, and she couldn't be prouder of him for it.

She loved his strong, athletic figure, sculpted by his years of discipline for a single purpose: to shine on the tennis courts. And so he shined, brighter than his brutish peers—maybe she didn't know the names of any shots or serves, but she could recognize her son's skill in a heartbeat. She loved to watch him play. She loved to watch him win. She loved to turn to the tittering gaggle of mothers in the stands and tell them, "You see that strapping young lad over there? He's my son!"

She loved their envious facial expressions when she said that.

But most of all, she loved his beautiful hair. She never let him cut it—better to let it reach its full glory—and she loved to comb it and twist it into elaborate braids. She could give him graceful waterfall braids, or sophisticated high ponytails, or simple pigtails, and her little Rin would wear everything flawlessly, like an old-fashioned drama character, until he unraveled all her work before leaving for school… just to receive the same treatment the next morning. She did so love giving him an elaborate bun with chopsticks.

Of course, her little Rin now stood a full head taller than she did. That didn't mean that she wouldn't cut him down to size and give him pretty pigtails when he needed it.

She loved Rin very much, and she would keep telling him so until he got it into his stubborn little head.

"Rin, stop squirming. I don't know how you ever thought that bleached hair would make you look _cool_, but I refuse to have a son who runs around looking like a delinquent! I will wash out your hair and restore its beautiful natural color even if it takes all day!" She kneaded his hair roughly to punctuate her point.

"Mom! It's not going to wash out! And I wasn't going to leave it blond, anyway! I was going for a cool ice blue, to offset my teammates' hair," Rin insisted into the sink. He felt his head get shoved further into the sink in response to his efforts.

"How could your team think that dyed hair would make you all look better? Rin, if you want to stand out, don't copy the other regulars on your team! You look better with dark hair anyways. Don't worry, honey, I'll get it out." His mother reached for the soap again, slathering on another layer of bubbles.

"Mom, I told you, it's not going to wash out! Just let me use the blue dye on my hair, otherwise I'll just be blond." Rin attempted to lift his head to point out where the dye was, but his mother's hands held it firmly in place.

"Oh, that inky blue stuff that was in your backpack? There was an _accident _with the container, Rin. I'm afraid you won't be able to use it," his mother stated sweetly.

Rin blanched. His skin tone now matched his bleached hair. "But I bought that dye with my own money!"

"And you'll have to wash it out of your uniform with your own two hands."

Rin suddenly stilled and stopped struggling.

His mother patted his head with a soap-slathered hand.

Sooner or later, her son would learn.

**-mm-**

_Notes: I don't really have an excuse for the lateness this time, but... I had fun. Originally, his mother was not going to be the star of the entire scene, but clearly she has taken over. XD For a moment there, I was worried she would start sounding like Gou from _Free!_._

_Hooray for emasculating Hirakoba, I guess. Hair buns with chopsticks are fun though._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Yukimura Seiichi._


	11. March 5 - Yukimura Seiichi

**March 5 - Yukimura Seiichi**

Beneath a deceptively calm dawn, the Rikkaidai boys' tennis team stood at the tennis courts and eyed each other nervously.

Or Kuwahara, at least, eyed his teammates nervously in the tenuous morning light. The third-years stood in a silent row, with him in the middle, turning from side to side to gauge his teammates' expressions. In this moment of palpable tension, how did they react?

Yanagi met his gaze and blinked placidly, apparently not worried in the least. Yagyuu, likewise, did not look concerned, and merely shifted his glasses higher on his nose. To his left, Marui and Niou were unusually solemn, to Kuwahara's surprise. Then Niou elbowed Marui in the gut, and Marui barely stifled a yelp before responding in kind, and their unspoken truce devolved into a silent contest of arm strength and elbow-pointiness.

The vice-captain's glare put a swift end to that little spat.

Rushed footsteps came from the entrance to the courts, and the team turned towards the latecomer hopefully, searching for a small figure with a yellow jacket billowing in the breeze behind it. They looked for the navy blue hair, the sweat-drenched headband…

They found a dark head of seaweed hair instead.

"Good morning! Sorry I'm late; my sister drives like an eighty-year-old granny or something, but at least I didn't take the bus—hey, where's Captain?"

Kuwahara immediately shushed him. "Akaya, your lateness is unacceptable for a Rikkaidai regular. Expect firm punishment once Captain gets here."

Kirihara gave his upperclassmen a baffled look. "Captain isn't here? Why not?"

Marui snorted. "We know about as much as you do, Akaya, which is absolutely nothing. Zip. Zilch. Even the data master has no idea."

"We don't know where Captain is? No one's seen him? He hasn't contacted anyone? Is he okay? _Did he have a relapse?_" Kirihara glanced between the others, waiting for someone to answer his increasingly frantic questions.

"Kirihara-kun, we don't know." Yagyuu spoke up. "For the time being, it's best to stop jumping to conclusions and panicking." He gave his vice-captain a pointed look.

Sanada, for his part, just clenched his racket tighter.

Yanagi suddenly coughed loudly, startling the rest of the regulars. He ignored their questioning looks. "Seiichi is coming," he pointed out blandly, nodding towards the far end of the courts.

The familiar blue head was approaching rapidly, accompanied by an unfamiliar brunette. He did not notice their concerned looks, or perhaps he ignored them.

"I apologize for my lateness, everyone. I will run laps later to make up for it—really, I will." Yukimura waved off Sanada's objections. "I'll be fine. Anyway, Muromachi-san here and I have a proposition!"

"Y-yes, but it was Yukimura-kun's suggestion," disagreed the girl.

_Why does she look so uncomfortable?_ wondered Kuwahara to himself. _We're not hulking tennis monsters like the high school students… I don't think we'd intimidate her._

"Well, it was my idea, but the Rikkai Beautification Committee will make it a reality." Yukimura beamed.

_Beautification? _The members of the team gave their captain identical bemused expressions.

"The fact of the matter is," continued Yukimura, "these bare clay courts are so _plain_ and _uninspiring_ for our adolescent minds. In the interest of promoting fun for everyone, I proposed that we spruce up the surroundings a bit. The courts really need some softer colors to offset that obnoxious shade of maroon, right?"

Sanada's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing. His teammates followed his lead.

Muromachi-san gave a forced smile.

"So, to improve the visual effect of our courts, I thought we should add some decoration. Let's cover the grounds in flowers!" Yukimura gestured towards the entrance he had come from. "We can use everything. Lilies, irises, peonies, hyacinths, daffodils…"

Muromachi-san sensed a growing aura of horror in the atmosphere. "Uh, Yukimura-kun…" she started.

Seven sets of hopeful eyes stared at her, willing her to put a stop to the debacle before it could begin.

"Irises won't do well in that kind of lighting. Maybe we could try something else… entirely…" she finished.

"Oh, then we can just use amaryllis instead. Problem solved!" Yukimura beamed once again.

Marui and Kirihara deflated in defeat. They'd be resigned to the flowers after all.

_It was a valiant effort, Muromachi-san_. Kuwahara commended her attempt.

"Seiichi. If we had flowers…" Sanada hid a grimace and forged on. "The first-years' terrible aim would probably destroy them. You know we've been trying to teach that powerful serve. What do you think will happen if one Tornado lands in a flower bed, let alone twenty?"

"I agree," Yanagi immediately concurred. "While we appreciate your efforts to enrich the… visual experience of our courts, perhaps heaps of flowers would not be the best way to go about it."

"Good point," Yukimura admitted. "I'll have to rethink this."

Their teammates breathed a sigh of relief. They were saved!

"Aha!" Yukimura's face suddenly lit up in inspiration.

"…What?" Muromachi-san ventured to ask.

"Let's spray-paint neon flowers on the fence instead!"

**-mm-**

_Notes: I feel like this scene took forever to actually reach its point... but maybe that's because all the previous ones were so short XD I'm still thinking of editing this in the future, though._

_Also, I think the line about "promoting fun" was inspired by Lucathia Rykatu's oneshot "Welcome to Room 201"._

_I don't actually know about flowers. I have no idea what kind of lighting an iris needs, which is really sad, because there are a bunch of them in my front yard._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Watanabe Osamu, or, as he is listed in my calendar, Osamu-chan._


	12. March 6 - Watanabe Osamu

**March 6 - Watanabe Osamu**

Honestly, they hadn't hired Watanabe Osamu to deal with these hooligans for nothing.

He knew the boys were trying to be sneaky, but hushing up every time their coach came near and avoiding his gaze wouldn't cut it. He thought he'd taught them to be more subtle than that—the punch line is ruined if the audience already sees it coming—but he'd watched them try to "act normal" for an entire week, and they weren't getting any better at it. What kind of secret would motivate them to even try in the first place? Their version of "acting normal" to keep him oblivious just made them look even more bizarre than they already did. No one would start whistling Carmen when he showed up if they didn't have something to hide.

In any case, it looked like he was about find out what his crazy kiddies were up to. As he approached the tennis clubroom this morning, the boys inside were freakishly silent, instead of loudly singing enka songs as they had all week.

_Here goes. _Osamu pushed the door open a bit, waited for something to fly at his head, found nothing, and then opened the door all the way.

"SURPRISE, OSAMU-CHAN!" Kenya burst out of one corner with lightning speed, trying to hide something on the table behind him.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OSAMU-CHAN!" Seven other voices immediately chimed in from around the room.

Osamu stared around the room with a startled expression. A handful of streamers was draped across the lockers. Several of the regulars seemed to still be preparing for a surprise celebration… for _him_. "Thanks, guys... This is unexpectedly kind of you."

"We wanted to show our affection for you, Osamu-chan," said Kuranosuke, a pink heart-shaped balloon in hand. "We weren't expecting you to arrive here this early, though."

Osamu nodded, eying the pink atrocity warily. "How did you guys even know it was my birthday? I never told you."

Kenya shrugged and pointed at Hikaru. "Ask the one who's actually compatible with computers. We have no idea how we managed it."

"What _we_? I did all the searching," Hikaru grumbled.

"And I did all the cheering!" shouted Kintaro from his perch atop a row of lockers. "Go, Zaizen-senpai! Go, go, go!"

"You cheered very well, Kintaro-kun," commented his captain, smiling indulgently.

"I helped with the decorating, too! Aren't the balloons great, Osamu-chan?" Kintarou leaped off the lockers and batted at one of the balloons excitedly.

"They're… very varied, I see," Osamu responded. Looking over the balloons, he had noticed an alarming mix of messages: _Happy birthday!_ _It's a boy! Congrats, college grad! Get well soon! Just got hitched~_

"I think Kintarou just walked up to the store counter and grabbed everything in sight," Hikaru muttered. "You know, the same way he eats Chinese food. Or any food at all."

"Kintarou-kun and Gin-san were both assigned to prepare the decorations," explained Kenjirou. "Gin-san went for a… minimalist approach, right, Gin-san?"

"I felt that an excessive clutter of bright colors would be too jarring, so I held back on the decorations," Gin agreed. "I hope that these streamers are acceptably soothing."

"I still say that Gin probably just forgot about it and bought some stuff at the last minute," Kenya insisted.

"I certainly did not," Gin replied, giving his teammate a fixed stare.

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Standing by the door, Osamu could hear whispered arguments and the clatter of utensils. What antics was the rest of the team up to?

"That would be our resident pair of lovebirds," Kenjirou stated calmly, ignoring the escalating disagreement behind him. "Along with their designated cake-bearer…"

"Alright, Koharu-kun, it's your time to shine!" Kuranosuke called towards the back. "Come show Osamu-chan the cake you've bought."

Koharu's head peeked out from behind a set of lockers, caught sight of the coach, and ducked behind the lockers again. "Okay, boys, here goes!" He hollered.

With Yuuji leaning exaggeratedly on his arm, Koharu led the way between the lockers, waving daintily at his unimpressed teammates. Once the pair reached the table in front of Osamu, Koharu gestured grandly to someone behind him. "And now, Senri-kun will do the honors!"

The cake-bearer strode down the aisle with a solemn expression, a white box resting securely between his hands. He placed the cake on the table carefully. "Your cake, sir," he announced blandly, glaring at Koharu.

"Ooh, ooh, let me see!" Kintarou clambered onto a chair to grab at the box.

A bandaged hand stopped Kintarou's eager fingers. "Let Osamu-chan have a look at his own birthday cake, Kintarou-kun," Kuranosuke admonished.

While the boy pouted, Osamu reached out a hand to open the box himself. Somehow, he was really looking forward to this…

"I ordered it from that place I found where they do custom cakes," Koharu explained, beaming proudly. "I chose the design especially for its great beauty and elegance."

Osamu lifted the lid of the box.

He fell speechless for several seconds, gaping at its contents.

"Isn't it lovely?" gushed Koharu.

A frosting approximation of Hitouji Yuuji's face grinned up at everyone, displaying an asymmetrical array of skin blemishes and crooked teeth.

"It's… me!" Yuuji exclaimed, as if anyone needed the clarification. "Hey, hot stuff." He winked at his own image with a smirk.

"I know, the design's fabulous," agreed Koharu. "So, ready to eat it, guys?"

He received no response from his still-horrified teammates.

"Okay, time to get started, then," Koharu announced. "Choose which piece you want… but you can't have his lips! No one can claim Yuuji-chan's lips except for me!"

"Then I want his nostrils!" volunteered Kintarou, recovering from his shock quickly.

"I don't want any at all…" Hikaru shuddered discreetly.

"Oh, but you can't have it just yet," Yuuji realized. "Osamu-chan still needs to blow out the candles."

As Osamu watched in a daze, his rather eccentric doubles pair jammed a collection of crooked candles into the frosting monstrosity. Once the candles were lit, they thrust the cake towards his face, demanding that he make a wish.

Osamu stared at frosting-Yuuji's lopsided eyes in consternation and a small amount of horror.

_Please let these kids get some sense into their heads so they'll actually be able to communicate with non-aliens once they graduate_, Osamu pleaded. _Well, let us all be healthy, and it'd be nice if we won Nationals…_

_But please let these kids get some _logic _into their heads._

**-mm-**

_Notes: Heh. This was fun. Also, the name Osamu makes me think of _World Trigger_, because I just read it._

_I have realized that apparently this is what happens when I write a scene with so many characters in it. Most of the other scenes in this series focus more on a single character, but this one has an entire team... so it just sprawls on and on across more and more pages._

_Are there actually balloons that say, "Just got hitched~" on them? That just popped into my head. XD_

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Sakaki Tarou._


	13. March 14 - Sakaki Tarou

**March 14 - Sakaki Tarou**

Whenever you find a pest in your office, the thing to do is to evict it immediately by any means necessary. This Sakaki Tarou firmly believed, no matter how much sniveling came in his direction.

Spiders could scuttle around all they liked. Beetles could smash themselves into the overhead lamp for all he cared. Wandering flies or busy bees or whining mosquitoes, whatever the universe decided to throw at him, he would handle it.

Without his express permission, nothing could enter his domain—nothing and _no one_.

Not even overzealous old boys from his team.

"This is your final warning. I have firmly decreed that students who have already graduated may not return to interfere in the current team's activities unless I ask them to. You have moved on from this middle school. Focus on your high school team, Atobe-kun."

Sakaki gazed levelly at the uniformed student in front of him, noting the stubborn set to his mouth. Though he appreciated Atobe's level of concern for his team, the boy should have already graduated to stronger opponents and greater feats.

"I merely wish to check on my team, sir," Atobe insisted, his tone barely respectful enough for his coach. "I only graduated a couple of months ago, and I want to see how my successor has fared in my absence."

"You will see how they are progressing well enough for yourself at our first tournament," Sakaki replied calmly. "Outside of that, I can assure you that Wakashi-kun and Kabaji-kun are handling their peers fairly well."

"But sir, surely I could give them some advice, from a previous leader," argued Atobe. "I have far more experience than both of them, and I can offer a veteran's perspective."

"And if you appear every week to lead them through their team practices, they will never gain any experience for themselves," his teacher responded easily. "You never learned to be a leader by letting your predecessor hold you by the hand, did you?"

Seeing that his student had no retort for this point, Sakaki continued.

"I applaud your passion for leading this team to greater heights of excellence, but that is now Wakashi-kun's job, not yours. You have already brought Hyotei to the National tournament more than once. Give the boys a chance to do the same on their own." He watched his student listen to his wisdom grudgingly.

Recognizing a crestfallen expression coming onto Atobe's proud face, the teacher quickly acted to banish his student's melancholy.

"I'm sure they could, however, use another supporter to cheer them on from the stands," Sakaki declared smoothly. "Of course, a crowd of fifty-one cheering fans is always better than a mere fifty, no?"

Atobe immediately snapped. "I will not be a simple cheerleader in the stands! I'm their _superior_!"

Now there was the fiery expression the boy should always have on his face.

**-mm-**

_Notes: As per usual, Atobe muscles his way into being the center of yet another Hyotei-centric scene. XD_

_This one isn't all that funny... hmm. I'm breaking the pattern. Also, before I went to work on this scene, I didn't really notice that Sakaki had a first name. Is it just me? Hahaha._

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Oshitari Kenya (bring on the Shitenhouji zaniness!)._


	14. March 17 - Oshitari Kenya

**March 17 - Oshitari Kenya**

"In three, two, one…"

Oshitari Kenya gulped. He could feel a hyperventilating fit coming on.

The red light lit up and cast a demonic glow on his pale face.

"Hi—this is the afternoon radio. Today's the seventeenth, and it's sorta sunny out there, or well there aren't that many clouds. It's kind of nice, you know? It's not bad—it looks okay out the window here—how does it look from down there in the cafeteria? Oh, right, no one can answer me. Well, I think it looks pretty good! Oh, darn, the timer's running out, and I didn't introduce myself yet—I'm Oshitari—"

_Beep_.

When the red light sputtered out, Kenya hid his face in his hands.

"Well, you didn't have any awkward pauses," commented his upperclassman cheerfully. "So at least your listeners won't start wondering if you've passed out in the middle of a broadcast the way they did with me when I first started."

Their instructor gave him a piercing look. "How would you describe that performance, Oshitari-kun?"

Kenya groaned. "Awful, what else?"

"Use your words. 'Awful' is grossly general and not descriptive at all."

"Way too rushed. I was totally freaking out," he admitted.

"If you are aware of this problem, then endeavor to fix it. Focus on the words and thoughts themselves, and not your potential audience," intoned the teacher. "You will attempt this again, but with more focus and less dithering."

* * *

"You'll get it this time, Oshitari!" The upperclassman grinned.

Kenya sat up straight in his seat and let out a quick breath.

The red light came on.

"Hello, this is Oshitari Kenya. Today is a lovely day, people of Shitenhouji—I mean, today is a lovely day at Shitenhouji. It's lovely with you people! I hope you're all enjoying your breaks—your lunch breaks—and your lunches too! I am, definitely. I'm glad to have you all listening today, the thirtieth of March—Monday, the thirtieth. It's sunny, and warm, and you should all go out and enjoy—oh, I'm out of time."

_Beep_.

Kenya sighed and slumped back into his chair.

His upperclassman gave him a thumbs-up from behind the instructor, and mouthed "getting there".

The teacher simply gave his student an expectant look.

Kenya grimaced. "I've slowed down to a better pace, but I still sound jittery. It sounds really awkward when I realize that I've gone off script, and I try to backtrack to fix it. At least I didn't spout random word barf this time."

"True, your speech is clearer than when you previously produced, as you say, a stream of 'word barf.' We can actually distinguish individual words now," his teacher replied. "Now, how is this performance worse than your previous ones?"

Balking, Kenya stared back at his teacher in confusion. "I got _worse_? But you just said you could actually understand me this time! Sort of."

"Indeed, and as a result, we keenly felt how stunted your speech was. You stated yourself that you tried to follow the script exactly. However, the script is meant to indicate to you how a typical introduction flows. You should not attempt to force your words into its impersonal sentences," the instructor explained. "Truthfully, you are a charming and eloquent speaker in personal conversation."

"Aw, thanks!" Kenya brightened.

"However, you are dreadful and incomprehensible on air."

Kenya sagged in his seat.

"What you fail to see is that there is no difference between the two modes of speaking. When you present yourself to your audience, you should present _yourself_, not a scripted, artificial version of you. Speak with gusto, and verve, and truly your _own_ flavor of expression."

The teacher looked at his student, and saw the dawning comprehension in his face.

"You will do this again."

* * *

"Alright, go get 'em, Oshitari!"

Kenya nodded at his upperclassman, already focusing on his broadcast.

The red light winked on.

"_Ba-baraba! Baraba! Baraba!_ Hear that amazing trumpet imitation? It's time for your daily lunchtime broadcast! Goooood afternoon, people of Shitenhouji. This sixth of June is balmy and bright and broiling hot. In fact, if you swing by the tennis courts later this afternoon, you will definitely find the team frying fresh fish on the hard court. It'll be a feast! Everyone come on out and dance in the sun! The principal has lifted the ban on going up to the school rooftop, thanks to popular demand, so you all better enjoy it and play a good prank on him to thank him. Tell him Oshitari Kenya sent you. That's right; this is Oshitari Kenya signing on to tell you what's what at lunchtime…"

From the back of the studio, the instructor smiled and subtly saluted his student. _You tell them, Oshitari Kenya. Show them how it's done._

**-mm-**

_Notes: This actually wasn't that crazy. I was thinking of having Kenya make a fart joke... XD_

_This scene is me combining Kenya's incredible speediness with the fact that he's a member of the Broadcasting Club. Inspiration comes partially from my public speaking class, and also from Spanish speaking exercises, and doing the morning announcements at my school previously._

_I have also learned that there's so much interesting random trivia on Kenya's profile from the Prince of Tennis wiki. Apparently, the voice actor for Yuushi originally auditioned for Kenya's role instead. At some point, Kenya has been shown to be fast enough to run on water... And Shiraishi says that he uses strangely shaped erasers in class. Haha._

_If anyone's interested, I have a fic rec for Kenya, too: "Make a Treasure" by roe2. I think the author handles the OCs and the canon characters quite well. I'm cheering for Yukari from across the fourth wall!_

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Tachibana An._


	15. March 21 - Tachibana An

**March 21 - Tachibana An**

"Kamio, Ibu, it's an emergency!" Sakurai darted into the cafeteria, waving his arms wildly.

The pair of second-years looked up from their boxed lunches, startled.

"Slow down before you hurt yourself, Sakurai," suggested Kamio. "Only I can move that fast all the time."

"If this is something stupid again, like the time with the hamster and the superglue, I'm not coming," Ibu grumbled. "I'm not a janitor; don't call me to clean up your messes. I hated that hamster and its stupid, sharp buckteeth and its grabby little claws…"

Sakurai glared at his lazy teammates. "Hey, I can run too! And this has nothing to do with the hamster from hell. It's An-chan!"

"What? What happened?" Kamio blurted out immediately. "Is she okay?"

"Nanase from class 2-C said that he's going to confess to An-chan behind the school today," Sakurai explained. "You know, the shifty-eyed snitch who looks really suspicious?"

"_Him?!_" exclaimed Kamio. "He doesn't deserve to even stand in her presence!"

"Exactly, so we're going to tell him what's what and stop him before he can ruin An-chan's day," agreed Sakurai. "Come on, Ishida and the others are already there, lying in wait."

"Are we going to rush off and try to be chivalrous for An-chan again?" muttered Ibu. "You know we're just going to end up looking really lame, right?"

* * *

"Alright, Nanase-kun, let me spell it out for you. I _do not_ want to go out for burgers with you. I _do not_ want to go out with you at all." An gave the sniveling boy a hard glare. "You have five seconds to get out of my sight."

The tennis team of Fudomine huddled behind the corner of the building and stared at their captain's sister in awe.

"But _An-chan_—" protested the boy.

In a flash, he found himself pinned to the ground with his arms twisted behind him.

"You had five seconds, but apparently that was too generous for a snitch like you. I said _no_, you hear?" An tightened her grip on his wrist. "No."

The flock of tennis players watching this scene nodded fervently. _That's right, An-chan!_

"Now leave," she commanded.

As soon as his arms were free, the boy fled around the corner without a backwards glance. The team considered stopping him and reinforcing An's point, but he already looked terrified enough, anyway.

"Okay, boys," An called. "I know you're there, so come on out already."

She arched an eyebrow at the sheepish group of boys.

"Hey, An-chan," greeted Mori with an embarrassed grin. Uchimura echoed him.

"Good job, An-chan!" chorused Ishida and Sakurai supportively. "Way to send off that clingy creep."

Kamio nodded quickly, glancing over An's frame to make sure the idiot hadn't tried anything. Of course, he knew An could handle herself, but he'd feel better if he was sure.

"I told you we would be useless no matter what," Ibu grouched to his team. "We just hid there, out of sight, like a bunch of little kids."

"Yeah, and I always knew you were there," An agreed. "Sorry to crush your hopes, but I'm perfectly capable of turning down boys I don't like by myself."

"But we wanted to save you the trouble!" insisted the others. "We were going to stop him before he could make even more of an idiot of himself."

"Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me? I have plenty of helpful thoughts too," muttered Ibu to the side. "I told you she wouldn't want or need our help…"

"But you still came with us anyway," Kamio reminded him.

Ibu glared at him. "Well, maybe without me, you guys would have done something even more stupid than hiding like stalkers around the corner, and I saved you from worse embarrassment…"

An cleared her throat.

All babbling and excuses came to a halt in an instant.

"Look, I appreciate that you guys all want to look out for me," An told them with a smile. "That doesn't mean I want you to follow me places and deal with other people for me. I want to tell boys straight-out that I don't like them, and I'm not going to let you guys do the talking for me."

The boys bowed their heads in dejection. "We understand," Kamio sighed.

An looked around at the group of disappointed boys. _Who knew "helping" me meant so much them? They're good guys, even if they act like idiots more than half the time._

"Okay, fine," she amended, noticing the hope that sprung into their faces with that simple sentence. "You guys can stand behind me menacingly while I do my thing. You'll be a supporting cast to my strong main character!"

**-mm-**

_Notes: And here we have it: Tachibana An is a cool kid who can stand up for herself. XD_

_I need to hurry to school now, so I'm not going to ramble on like I usually do. Sorry, guys._

_Thanks for reading! Next up is Arai Masashi._

_Edit: Rejar has pointed out to me that I made a mistake when putting up this scene the first time: I accidentally put the last line in twice. Oops... Well, thank you, Rejar! You have saved me from my own hurried foolishness._


	16. March 29 - Arai Masashi

**March 29 - Arai Masashi**

Arai had stepped into the fresh air that morning with a feeling of optimism. It was spring! The season of new life, new opportunities, new tennis tournaments… Arai strode through the school facilities with a light bounce to his step.

Perhaps he could finally perfect that one volley that had been messing him up during practice. If it turned out well enough, he could finally challenge that obnoxious pipsqueak to a duel between men… Or he could focus his energies on improving his Japanese literature grade. Heck, all his friends insisted that his literature grade was beyond salvaging at this point, but really, the class was about dusty old books! An upstanding man such as Arai Masashi could overcome something as simple as a bunch of flowery words, right?

Maybe he'd finally catch his big break, and the world would realize at last what an impressive guy he was. Some news reporter would catch sight of his amazing skill, and then everything would unfold as it should. Crowds of screaming fans would flock to his tournament matches. Billboards would proudly bear his name as a contender for the next tennis genius of the ages. That brat would finally bow down to him, and even the Samurai would acknowledge his talent, and the unworthy masses would make way in the streets for the greatest tennis player of all time…

_Nah_, Arai thought. _The world's not ready for my greatness_. He ran a hand through his hair luxuriously.

"Excuse me—are you a student of this school?" a light voice called from behind him.

Arai turned around and found love.

A lady in her twenties stood in the path, set against the bright spring sky. A soft breeze lifted her pale hair, and she tucked it behind her ear, smiling slightly. She wore a formal suit and a small scarf printed in a floral pattern. Framed by the drifting clouds, the swaying sakura branches, she cut a dazzling figure.

"You looked like you knew where you were going," she continued, oblivious to his awed stare. "Could you give me a hand?"

Arai snapped himself out of his daze. A lady was in need of assistance! Now was no time to go gawking around like a newbie freshman.

"Of course! I'd be glad to do anything for you," he replied.

His mind screeched to a halt. _No, that was way too desperate! She'll think I'm an overly eager little ball boy…_

"I'd just like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind. Do you have a class soon?" She inquired, fidgeting with the notebook in her hands.

Arai regained control of himself. "Oh, no, it's fine," he assured charismatically. "I just have practice, for the tennis team."

"Do you have to hurry there?" Her eyes widened. "We wouldn't want to interfere in Seigaku's team schedule."

"It's no trouble," Arai insisted, waving a hand expansively. "I would be glad to assist you." _Any reporter who can spread the news of my glory to the rest of the world is welcome to stop me on the way to practice. Especially one as pretty as you…_

"I have so many questions, though. We should talk on your way there," the lady reporter suggested.

"Alright, this way, then," Arai acquiesced, gesturing down the path. "Ask away." _I'm ready for my big break as a tennis star! It's finally here!_

"Alright, here goes," she agreed, opening her notebook. "You're on Seigaku's tennis team, right?"

Arai smirked dashingly. "Yes, I'm a second year on the team." _She doesn't have to know that I'm not a regular_, he thought.

"Do you know the regulars of Seigaku very well? I've read the team roster, and I'm sure they're all incredibly talented, but I was hoping for a personal view from a close teammate…" She showed him the athlete profiles she had printed out in her notebook, complete with names and pictures.

_She already knows!_ Arai balked. _But of course an organized lady like her would have done her research diligently. _"Oh, of course I know my teammates," Arai declared. "I see them every day, so I'm familiar with their signature shots, their favored exercises, their locker room habits…"

The reporter rounded on him with a glint in her eye. "Even the younger members of the team?" she inquired expectantly.

"Yes," he replied, startled. "I've interacted with them a lot, as a friendly upperclassman." _One of them is way too cocky for his own good. That Echizen, always stealing the spotlight…_

"What can you tell me about the Super Rookie, Echizen Ryoma?" the lady asked excitedly, whipping out her pen to take notes.

"_Him_?!" Arai scowled at the thought of the pint-sized nuisance. "What do you want to know?" Surely this graceful lady had better taste than to like that brat.

The lady drew in a quick breath.

"Have you ever played him in a match, friendly or official? I've heard that he's ambidextrous, but which hand does he really favor? Which of his shots do you find most impressive? Is he working on anything new right now? Is he going to make a real debut in doubles any time soon? What racket does he use? What beverage does he prefer during break times? What kind of food does he eat to prepare for a tournament? Does he work on his skills a lot outside by himself outside of practice? How much of an inspiration is he to your team?"

Arai was at a loss for words.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was way too many at once," she fretted. "I got a little too excited…"

"No, that's okay," Arai reassured her. "Both tennis and reporting should be done with a high tension, right? Your enthusiasm is great." He smiled charmingly.

She beamed back, clearly encouraged by his words. "I'm so glad I found a willing interviewee who can handle so many questions! Here, I'll repeat them for you."

Arai flinched. _Oh no._

"Have you ever played against Echizen in a match? I'd really like a comprehensive look at his playing style. I've heard that he's ambidextrous, and I'm sure you're familiar with that, but which hand does he really favor? He can't really be just as good with either hand, can he? Though, of course, he seems superhuman sometimes. Could Echizen even get any better? He seems to evolve into a more amazing player every time he plays a match. Gosh, I can't even express how talented he is. You know what I mean, right? He's just so cool. It's like—oh, sorry, I was supposed to be interviewing you. Even though he's obviously amazing and skilled right now, do you think he's working on anything even more exciting right now? Wow, it makes me feel amazed just to think of it…"

By the time they reached the courts, Arai was ready to smack his head against the clay courts in desperation.

_You know what, I could deal with going to a different, lesser-known school. I'd even be okay with never making the regulars here, though I don't know how that would ever happen. I'd put up with anything—just as long as I don't have to deal with endless pestering about that aggravating first-year!_

"Since Echizen is such a trailblazer here, I'm sure he's brought a lot to Seigaku's tennis team, but I still wanted to ask: how much of an inspiration is he for your team? He's astonishing, I know, but I wanted your personal opinion on his skills… Eh? Where are you going?"

**-mm-**

_Notes: Good news: I'm alive! Ehehe..._

_Yeah, I guess I'm entering that season of college visits and APs and whatnot. It's the final gasp of my high school career... (That sounds way more ominous than it should.) I haven't written much in a bit… but I have written a paragraph from the point of view of a banana for Spanish homework. Perhaps you would enjoy it XD_

_[Imagine other lame excuses here. Also, feel free to give me a nudge or a shove if I suddenly disappear with no explanation. I'll probably be off fangiriling over something else...]_

_I'm certainly not a fan of Arai, personally, and perhaps that dislike came through in this scene. I made him suffer via overzealous fangirl reporter. Heh._

_Thank you for reading this incredibly belated installment! Next up is Tooyama Kintarou._


	17. April 1 - Tooyama Kintarou

**April 1 - Tooyama Kintarou**

"I HAVE ARRIVED! OSHITARI KENYA-SENPAI, I HAVE COME FOR YOU!"

Heads turned from all around the cafeteria to observe the new arrival. Many promptly swiveled around to gauge the Naniwa Speed Star's reaction. Oshitari, with a mouthful of soba half-processed in his mouth, choked and began coughing.

"What the heck?" muttered Zaizen.

Ishida rolled his eyes silently and gave Oshitari a solid smack on the back.

A crimson-headed monkey bounded up to their table in a flash. "Ready or not, Oshitari-senpai, here I am!"

Oshitari didn't answer, still absorbed in an exaggerated coughing fit. Hey, he had to make sure his airways were clear and ready for communication!

"Yes, Kintarou-kun?" Shiraishi asked over Oshitari's emphatic gagging. "What are you here for?"

"For our super great mega-eating showdown, of course!" Kintarou announced, leaping into the seat next to Oshitari's. "Last one to finish eating has to pay for the other's lunch for a week. Get ready to be taken down, Oshitari-senpai!"

"Oh, Kintarou-kun, so assertive!" Konjiki swooned.

"You're a midget, though," commented Zaizen. "You're pretty much a lightweight—you weigh barely over 50 kilos."

"50 kilos of pure awesome!" Kintarou gave his teammates a wide grin.

"Of course, Kintarou-kun," Shiraishi agreed.

"So, what do you say, Oshitari-senpai?" Kintarou prodded the upperclassman in the side. "Do you have the guts to go up against me?"

Oshitari stirred his soba around thoughtfully. "Well, I dunno, Kintarou-kun. Are you sure you can handle my level of amazing? Because, you know, I have a full 10 kilos more of awesomeness than you do."

A mouthful of his soba darted out of his sight.

"If you're such a wimp you won't challenge me, then I'll just have to help you with your noodles, then," Kintarou declared cheerily. "Since, y'know, it looks like you can't handle it."

"Oh, it is _on._"

* * *

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Koishikawa called, approaching his friends. "I had to meet my science teacher for something—huh? What _happened_?!"

Before his astonished eyes, two of his teammates languished across the lunch table, draping their limbs everywhere. Oshitari had his feet hanging over one edge of the table, while his head slowly sank on the other side, utterly unresponsive to Konjiki and Hitouji's worried fussing. Kintarou, meanwhile, lay with his fingers dangerously close to contaminating Ishida's soup. Koishikawa would have thought the super rookie was sleeping, if it weren't for the odd greenish tint to the boy's skin…

"Yup, they're both out for the count this time," Zaizen snorted. "There's no hope for Oshitari, you pair of dolts. Just leave him."

"What happened to them?" Koishikawa demanded, deeply concerned.

"They had an eating race that ended badly," Shiraishi explained. "Apparently Kintarou-kun got two giant orders of spicy noodles, and they both gulped down at least five servings in a matter of seconds."

"They have no understanding of the concept of self-restraint," Ishida sighed.

Hitouji looked up and sharply saluted his vice-captain. "As explained, we have two casualties due to intolerance for spicy food, sir," he reported. "At this time, they're both incapacitated indefinitely."

"Noooooo, Oshitari-kun," wailed Konjiki from his side. "Who can I complain to about Yuuji-kun's annoying outfits now?"

"Hitouji, you mean two casualties due to Kintarou's lack of a functioning brain," Zaizen corrected. "What kind of idiot orders a dish with chili peppers for a school cafeteria eating race?"

"Zaizen-kun, have respect for the fallen! Kintarou-kun put his heart into this stirring duel between daring men. Who are you to question his resolve?" chided Konjiki.

"Kintarou put in his heart, but he'll lose his stomach," Zaizen retorted. "Is he going to be able to eat anything else today? He's a little fool, and his resolve just makes him a stubborn little fool."

"Why you—" Konjiki blustered.

"So who won?" Koishikawa broke in, wanting to put a stop to the spat before it could escalate to a full-blown argument.

"Oshitari did," Shiraishi answered. "His indigestion is going to be even worse than Kintarou-kun's, though…"

Kintarou's hand suddenly slammed down on the table top. With a Herculean effort, he pushed his torso off the surface, arms trembling with the energy spent just to move. "Ha! I have defeated you in resilience, at least, senpai! I can withstand the heat!"

The super rookie collapsed and let his head fall back to the table for once and for all.

Oshitari didn't even bother lifting his head.

"Shut up, rookie."

**-mm-**

_Notes: I seem to be writing a lot of food-related scenes lately, between this series and my Bleach one... hmm._

_For a moment there, I couldn't figure out what Kintarou's hair color was. I had to consult the wiki XD I also had a serious moment of, "oh wait, all these goons are younger than me, yet most of them are taller and weight more..." And they could all beat me in strength without breaking a sweat. Sigh. Darned manga middle-school kids._

_While writing, I had the sudden urge to have Kintarou say "50 kilos of pure awesome! _Believe i_t!" XD Is Naruto invading my brain?_

_Thank you for reading! Next up is Akutsu Jin._


End file.
